


London Weekend

by Likemycoffee



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Brief mention of suicide attempt, M/M, Period Typical Attitudes, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:42:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23881747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Likemycoffee/pseuds/Likemycoffee
Summary: It’s Thomas’s first weekend off since the Royal visit. He spends it in London.
Relationships: Thomas Barrow/Richard Ellis
Comments: 5
Kudos: 142





	London Weekend

Thomas woke up early, when it was still dark outside and the house still quiet. A look at his pocket watch told him that at that hour, only the hall boy would be awake, not even Daisy would have risen from the warmth of her bed to begin the morning’s work in the kitchen. 

For three quarters of an hour Thomas attempted to return to sleep without success before he gave it up as a bad job and got out of bed, turning on the lamp in order to dress for the day, but it wasn’t his Butler uniform that Thomas dressed in that morning after washing and shaving but rather his travel clothes. As he dressed he could hear the sounds of the household coming to life. The other occupants of the men’s end of the servants’ corridor were all beginning their day. 

Thomas checked the contents of his small suitcase carefully and clutched it tightly as he made his way downstairs to the servants’ hall. Mr Branson had kindly offered him a lift to the station when he heard of Thomas’s plans, as he had business of his own in town, but Thomas now almost wished he’d said he would walk so that he could be underway already instead of having to sit through breakfast in the hall with the others. 

‘What will you do in London Mr Barrow?’ Mr Bates asked him as he sipped his tea, there was a twinkle in his eye that once Thomas would’ve found irritating but he was a changed man these days. 

‘I’m visiting my sister,’ Thomas told him the story he’d prepared, keeping it brief.

‘I didn’t know you had a sister, Mr Barrow.’ Daisy replied. 

‘Well now you do,’ Thomas said.

‘Is it her who’s been writing you all them letters?’ Daisy asked innocently. 

‘What?’ Thomas stilled, and to his horror he felt his face turning red. 

‘Just you’ve been getting a lot of letters lately. I just wondered...’

‘Daisy,’ Anna interrupted her. ‘Are Mr Barrow’s personal letters really any of your business?’

‘I were only asking.’

‘Well don’t,’ Thomas cut her off before she could start again, his mask firmly back in place. ‘There’s no secret here. I’m going to London to visit my sister. I’ll be back tomorrow evening before dinner. Mr Bates and Mrs Hughes will be in charge while I’m away.’

He tried to sound nonchalant but the lie weighed heavily on him. He didn’t think anyone would’ve noticed that he’d been receiving more letters than usual. He should’ve known you that couldn’t hide anything in the servants’ hall and the fact was, he didn’t want to have to hide. He wanted to be able to share his happiness in the same way that the rest of them could, but however tolerant they may have been of his past indiscretions; however many of them may already “know” about him on some level, he had no desire to push his luck. The memory of the few hours spent in a police cell were still all too vivid in his mind. 

It was just after eight o’clock when word came down that Mr Branson had asked for the car to be brought round and Thomas pulled on his coat and hat; gathered up his suitcase. 

Mr Branson drove the car himself and so Thomas sat beside him in the front seat. Thomas liked Mr Branson, whatever he may have said about him in the past, the chauffeur who became one of the family but still insisted he was one of them at heart. He thought that Mr Branson must understand how it felt to be an outsider, albeit for very different reasons. 

They made small talk on their way to the station and Mr Branson didn’t pry into his reasons for travelling to London when usually he never ventured further than York when he was off duty. He merely dropped him off outside the station and bid him farewell with an ‘I hope you enjoy your weekend off, Mr Barrow.’

‘Thank you very much Mr Branson,’ he replied. 

He meant to make the most of every second.

It still felt like a novelty, having a whole weekend off. Back in 1910 when he’d first entered Lord Grantham’s service, it had only been half a day, on the second Sunday of the month that he’d been allowed to have to himself. He remembered Mr Carson telling him how lucky he was to have that. He’d felt lucky to have it. Junior servants in other houses didn’t have any time off at all, but it was another world back then, where estates like Downton were thriving and servants were easily come by. For every young lad who failed to come up to scratch as a junior footman there were at least a dozen others who would’ve been glad to take his place. 

The war had changed all of that. It seemed like nobody wanted to work in service anymore, the lads in the village were all aspiring to trades and business. They didn’t want to learn how to serve at table, or care for a Gentleman’s wardrobe, and where once, local families would’ve been eagerly pushing their daughters forward for a junior housemaid position or even a scullery maid, nowadays they’d rather they become secretaries and shop assistants 

Sometimes Thomas wondered if there would be any such thing as a Butler at all in fifty years time. 

The train was on time. Thomas paid for his ticket and took his seat in the third class carriage towards the rear of the train. A young man sat opposite near the window, reading a newspaper, an older lady beside him, staring out of the window into the distance. 

Thomas reached into the breast pocket of his overcoat and felt the sheaf of paper beneath his gloved hand. 

He always kept the letters close, away from prying eyes. He’d learned the hard way to never leave anything incriminating where it could be found by those inclined to go snooping. After looking around and reassuring himself that nobody was paying him the slightest attention, Thomas pulled them out and smiled softly as his eyes wandered across the neatly folded pages. He knew all their contents by heart, having reread them many times at night in the privacy of his room, but he didn’t think that he’d ever tire of the sight of that neat handwriting, black ink on white notepaper...

‘Dear Mr Barrow,  
I wanted to thank you for the hospitality you showed me while I was at Downton last month. I’m back in London now and although work is keeping me busy as always, I will confess, in my quiet moments I find myself missing your company. I believe I shall always count those few days we spent together in Yorkshire among the happiest of my life. I feel as though I have found in you a kindred spirit.   
Even now, I find my thoughts returning to the time of our parting... I do so hope you were sincere in your wishes to keep in touch and that we will see each other again soon so we might talk some more in the way we did that night. I find I am longing for that more than anything.  
Affectionately yours,  
Mr Richard Ellis’

‘Dearest Mr Barrow,  
I was so glad to receive your letter. I imagine you sitting down to write it in your office when the rest of the household is gone to bed. The household never goes entirely to bed here. Always there is work to be done trying to keep one step ahead of my employer’s needs.   
I’m in my room as I write this, and I can’t help but wish you were here beside me sitting by the fire, perhaps sharing a glass of good scotch, some jazz music playing. Do you care for jazz? There are so many things I don’t know about you yet and I find I want to know it all. Of course there are also other... possibly more enjoyable ways of passing the time. It is a special thing to feel such a close connection to another soul, so close you could almost be one person... one body...  
I know it is hard to find the words my dear, but people like us must learn to look between the lines and find the truths that cannot be spoken. I do hope you understand me.   
I miss you dearly. I long to see you again.   
R.E.’

‘My Darling,   
I must confess I have scarcely been able to stop myself from rereading your last letter. You are so clever finding such ways to express your feelings and desires. You have a very lovely way with words.  
As to your question, my answer is of course yes. Please come to London as soon as you can arrange it. I know an excellent guesthouse in SoHo, very comfortably situated with a very discreet landlady. I’ll enclose the details with this letter.  
Oh I long to see you again my darling. Let me take you to lunch, show you the sights.   
Always yours,  
R.’

Thomas smiled and tucked the letters back into his pocket. Outside the window, the English countryside was rolling past, every second bringing him closer to London. Closer to Richard. 

Thomas alighted the train and stepped into the London morning. The platform was busy, and he found himself swept along with the crowd of gentlemen and ladies hurrying off into the smoke filled streets. Thomas clutched the scrap of paper on which he’d written the address of the guest house. Outside the station he decided to hail a taxicab - not an expense he normally would’ve run to but he considered it his best chance of finding his way to his accommodation in SoHo and therefore worth the money. 

The Landlady of the guesthouse house was a Mrs Jones, a middle aged woman with dark hair, greying at the temples. She showed him to his room, which was clean and comfortable looking with a small double bed, dresser and wardrobe, the window overlooked the street below. When Thomas was left alone, he unpacked his suitcase and changed out of his travelling clothes into a clean suit, combed his hair and set off to meet Richard. 

They had arranged to meet at the north corner of St. James’s Park, a short walk for Richard from the Palace and convenient enough from Thomas’s Guesthouse. As Thomas walked down the Mall he tried to ignore the butterflies in his stomach at the thought of seeing Richard again. He had spent almost every night since the other man had left Downton, thinking of him. He remembered the feel of Richard’s hand in his as they’d sat talking in Thomas’s office, late into the night long after the family and the other servants had retired to bed; the press of his lips against Thomas’s own as they’d said goodbye... 

Then there had been the letters. Thomas’s heart pounding in his throat whenever Andy brought the post in, the rush of anticipation on seeing his name written in Richard’s elegant hand... proof of the developing affections between them as the greetings changed from the formal “Dear Mr Barrow,” to the most recent letter which had begun. “My Darling.’

As he approached the gate, Thomas looked around him and immediately spotted the familiar figure sitting on a bench looking, Thomas was rather relieved to see, every bit as nervous as Thomas himself was. 

Richard stood up when he spotted him and Thomas smiled warmly. 

‘Good afternoon Mr Ellis,’ he said offering his hand. 

‘Mr Barrow,’ Richard smiled. ‘How was your journey down?’ He shook Thomas’s hand in greeting and allowed his fingers to linger for a moment on Thomas’s gloved hand before releasing it. 

‘It was fine,’ Thomas answered him. ‘The train was on time and I found my accommodation easily enough.’

Richard smiled and Thomas found he was captivated by his eyes. The colour was deeper than he remembered. Thomas thought he could stare into those eyes all day. 

‘Shall we take a walk around the park?’ Richard asked. 

‘Alright,’ Thomas agreed. 

They kept a respectable distance from each other as they walked around the winding paths, but no one paid them the slightest attention. They were simply two men out for a stroll. 

‘How’s work?’ Thomas asked. 

‘Oh fine,’ Richard replied. ‘Everyone into everybody else’s business, same as always. Nothing much changes, really.’

‘Were they alright about you having the day off?’

‘Of course. I was owed a favour or three,’ Richard smiled. ‘And besides, you’re worth it.’

Thomas felt himself beginning to blush and then he felt the back of Richard’s gloved hand brushing against his own. He was sure it was a deliberate act and, deciding to be brave, he pressed the back of his hand against Richard’s and smiled when he felt Richard returning the pressure. 

‘Have you spent much time in London?’ Richard asked as they walked. 

‘Not really,’ Thomas replied. ‘Only when the family have need of me. Crawley House is on St. James’s Square but I haven’t had much time to explore further than that, except in passing. Not a lot of free time during the summer season.’

Richard nodded in understanding. Thomas felt that he maybe should mention the summer that he’d spent finding any excuse to escape from his duties in the confines of Crawley House and into the arms and the bed of Philip, the Duke of Crowborough but he decided against it. This was not the time to discuss past lovers and broken hearts. 

’Then I think we should rectify that,’ Richard said with a soft smile. ‘I’m going to take you to the Lamplight Lounge for lunch.’

‘What’s that?’ Thomas asked raising an eyebrow. ‘It’s not...’ he trailed off, looking around to check nobody was listening to their conversation. ‘One of... those places is it?’

‘No,’ Richard grinned. ‘Don’t worry it’s a perfectly respectable establishment. Well, it’s a jazz club so respectability is relative I suppose. Don’t worry, it won’t be too wild at this time of the day.’

Thomas smiled, ‘I’m not completely innocent you know Mr Ellis. I’m sure I can handle myself.’

‘Oh I’m counting on it Mr Barrow.’

As they walked towards the lake, Buckingham Palace came into view through the trees. 

‘Wish I could take you inside,’ Richard said softly. ‘Too many questions though. We’re not really allowed visitors...’

‘It’s fine,’ Thomas said reassuringly. ‘I understand. I didn’t come here to see the Palace. I came to see you.’

He saw Richard inhale deeply and he stopped walking and turned to face Thomas, resting a hand on his forearm. ’You’re so beautiful,’ he said. His voice was low barely above a whisper. ‘Mr Barrow...’ 

Thomas bit his lip and he saw Richard’s eyes follow the movement. ‘I should so dearly like to kiss you again, Mr Ellis.’

Richard let out a gasp and looking around furtively, he led Thomas off the main path and into the shelter of a group of trees and bushes. There were few people around in the park and nobody paid the two men the slightest attention. Sure they were out of sight, Richard leaned in and pressed his lips to Thomas’s in a brief kiss. 

Thomas let out a soft moan. He breathed in Richard’s scent, he was wearing a cologne Thomas couldn’t identify but his scent was intoxicating. ‘I’ve been thinking about doing that ever since we parted at Downton,’ Richard said. 

‘Me too,’ Thomas admitted. ‘There have been times when I’ve found it hard to think of anything else. What happened to being circumspect though, Mr Ellis?’

Richard laughed. ‘I know,’ he sighed. ‘You make me want to break all my own rules.’ And then with a seemingly great effort, he forced himself to take a step backwards. ‘Come on, I promised to buy you lunch didn’t I?’

Thomas was tempted to say forget lunch in favour of going somewhere to be alone together, but he didn’t want to rush things. They had all weekend and Richard was clearly the kind of man who wanted to do things properly, if there was any such thing as propriety when it came to men like themselves, Thomas wasn’t sure, but he was happy to go at Richard’s pace. 

The Lamplight Lounge was in SoHo. The building decorated in a modern art-deco style that Thomas found he liked very much. There was a piano in the corner where a man in a white suit was playing a jazz piece he didn’t recognise. There were a few other patrons, some at the bar sipping cocktails and others at tables, dining. 

The waiter who greeted them seemed to know Richard well. He welcomed him like an old friend and showed them both to a corner table slightly away from the other customers. 

‘Do you come here a lot then?’ Thomas asked. 

‘Sometimes on my days off,’ Richard replied. ‘We should come in the evening really though that’s when it really gets going.’

Thomas nodded. He could well imagine. ‘Maybe next time,’ he said. ‘I’ve other things I’d rather be doing this evening.’

Richard blushed and looked down at his hands but he smiled endearingly. 

The food arrived quickly and they fell into easy conversation. Thomas was amazed at how normal he felt, sitting here like this. To an outsider they looked to be simply two friends sharing a meal together, nothing improper about it. They didn’t see the heated glances the two men were sending each other across the table. They weren’t looking for it. 

‘Are your family well?’ Thomas enquired as he sipped his drink. 

‘Very well,’ Richard replied. ‘Although my mother’s sad I couldn’t stay longer in Yorkshire.’

‘She’s not the only one,’ Thomas said in a low voice. 

Richard smiled a shy smile. ‘Do you see much of your family?’ he asked. 

‘Don’t have one really,’ Thomas replied. ‘My mother died when I was eleven and my father and me never really got along. I’ve a sister but with me being in service and then her leaving to get married we lost touch.’

‘That’s a shame,’ Richard said. 

Thomas shook his head. ‘I’d have only brought trouble to her door.’

‘I’m sure that’s not true.’

Thomas looked awkwardly down at his hands. ‘You think too highly of me Mr Ellis. I’ve done more than my fair share of bad things in life.’

‘We’ve all done bad things, Mr Barrow,’ Richard replied. ‘Doesn’t mean you have to let them define you.’

Thomas looked into Richard’s face and saw such affection in his gaze that it almost took his breath away and he couldn’t bring himself to protest. 

They finished their meal and Richard insisted on paying the bill. ‘I promised you lunch, Mr Barrow. I’m a man of my word.’ Then they walked a little more, down towards the river Thames. The streets were busier than the park had been and Thomas didn’t dare risk, making a deliberate brush of hands, lest someone be paying them too close attention though he couldn’t help but keep stealing glances at Richard whenever he could. 

‘You’re staring, Mr Barrow,’ Richard said with a smile the third time he caught Thomas in the act. 

‘Sorry,’ Thomas replied. ‘I can’t help it. Am I being too obvious?’

Richard shook his head. ‘Don’t worry. London isn’t York. Everyone’s too caught up in themselves to pay us any mind.’

‘As long as we’re discreet?’

‘Of course,’ Richard replied. ‘Discretion is key.’

‘You said the guest house I’m staying in was discreet.’

‘I did,’ Richard smiled. 

‘Know that for certain do you?’

‘It came highly recommended.’

‘By who?’

‘The woman who owns it is the sister of one of the footmen,’ Richard said. ‘War widow... he’s like us... she’s understanding.’

‘Have you partaken of her discretion a lot?’

‘Are you asking if I’ve invited other young men to “come up to London”, Mr Barrow?’

‘I might be.’

‘Not for a long time,’ Richard said. 

Thomas wondered if perhaps he’d said the wrong thing. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.’

Richard shook his head. ‘You weren’t,’ he said reassuringly. ‘I’m sure you’ve as much of a past as I have on that score, but you’ve no cause to be jealous. I promise.’

Thomas felt the light brush of Richard’s hand against his. He felt an odd sense of calm come over him. 

‘Do you want to come back with me?’ he asked. ‘To the guest house?’

‘Yes,’ Richard replied. ‘Yes please.’

The landlady was nowhere to be seen when Thomas and Richard entered the guest house but they climbed the stairs quietly and Thomas unlocked the door to his room, making sure to lock it behind them just in case. 

He turned to look at Richard who was standing in the middle of the room, taking off his hat and coat. He looked almost as nervous as Thomas felt. ‘Are you alright?’ he asked, taking the hat and coat from Richard and hanging them up neatly in the wardrobe. 

‘I’m fine,’ Richard nodded. ‘Nervous.’

‘Do I make you feel nervous, Mr Ellis?’

‘You make me feel a lot of things, Mr Barrow.’

‘Thomas,’ he said. ‘I’d really like it if you’d call me Thomas.’

‘Thomas,’ Richard repeated almost reverently. ‘You should call me Richard, then.’

Thomas smiled, stepping closer. He brought a hand up to cradle Richard’s face. ‘Richard,’ he said softly and his thumb caressed his cheek. ‘How long has it been?’ 

‘Two years,’ Richard swallowed. Thomas watched his Adam’s Apple bob in his throat. 

‘It’s been longer for me,’ Thomas confessed. ‘A lot longer.’

Richard nodded. ‘So we go slowly then’

‘Slow is good,’ Thomas agreed and he brought their lips together in a kiss. 

It was unlike either of the previous two kisses they’d shared. Both of them had been hurried; fleeting. Fear of being caught at the forefront of their minds. Now they had privacy; a bedroom; a locked door. Thomas felt himself melting under Richard’s ministrations. Their lips moving against each other and Richard’s tongue slipping into his mouth. Thomas felt his knees going weak. His hands carded through Richard’s hair. Thomas felt his cock hardening and, from the telltale bulge pressing against his thigh he knew Richard was in a similar state. 

When they broke the kiss, Thomas was delighted to see Richard’s lips were swollen red, his pupils blown. Thomas guesses he was in a similar state himself. 

‘May I undress you?’ Richard asked. ‘I’ve been imagining what you would look like undressed.’

‘Have you?’ Thomas asked. 

Richard nodded and leaned in close to whisper in Thomas’s ear. ‘Vigorously.’

Thomas swallowed hard in amazement. The thought of Richard thinking about him in that way while he... pleasured himself... well, it was a very arousing image. 

Richard began slowly with Thomas’s suit jacket, he unfastened the buttons one by one and then moving behind him, slipped it from his shoulders, Richard’s fingers lightly brushing against his shoulders and arms as he went. Thomas couldn’t help but smile then when instead of just letting the jacket fall or laying it on the dresser, Richard opened the wardrobe in search of a coat hanger. 

‘You’re not undressing his Majesty now you know,’ Thomas teased. 

‘Can’t let my standards slip can I?’ Richard replied with a smile. ‘Anyway, when His Majesty gets undressed there’s usually at least three or four others watching, and I want to keep you just for myself.’

‘Good,’ Thomas said, the possessive note in Richard’s voice going straight to his cock. 

Richard reached next moved for Thomas’s shirt, bringing his arm up to unfasten his cuff links, as he did so he felt Richard stop and felt his sharp intake of breath and Thomas was suddenly aware that Richard had seen the scar on his wrist, faded but still visible and it’s cause painfully obvious. Thomas felt himself go cold. 

‘I’d say it’s not what it looks like,’ he said, feeling suddenly raw and exposed in a way he hadn’t since he’d woken up in that bathtub with Miss Baxter cradling his head, ‘but that would be a lie.’

‘My Darling,’ Richard breathed and he pressed a soft kiss to the red skin. ‘Oh my Darling.’ and then they were kissing again, Richard’s mouth warm and wet against his own. When they parted again, Richard’s practised fingers made quick work of unbuttoning Thomas’s shirt, removing it along with his vest ‘You’re beautiful,’ Richard said and he kissed along Thomas’s collarbone making him shiver. 

‘You’ve got too many clothes on,’ Thomas said, wanting to keep the evening on track, not get caught up remembering his past demons.

‘Then by all means, rectify the situation.’

Thomas had undressed many men over the course of his almost two decades in service, but that was strictly professional. The only other man Thomas had ever undressed for the purposes of going to bed with was Philip, back then he’d been so young and self assured, even though he was considerably lacking in experience, his confidence had carried him through. He was a quick learner, and Philip was a willing teacher - the English public school system having taught him all the finer details of ‘Greek Love’, as he’d called it. 

Now Thomas had experience, but his confidence had faded over the years. His hand trembled as he reached for Richard. Richard’s arms were strong, Thomas could feel the shape of the muscles beneath his white shirt. He imagined those arms holding him down, overpowering him. It was intoxicating. His chest was firm, with a light dusting of hair. Thomas found himself pleased with what he saw. His fingers roamed through the chest hair, teasing across his nipples, resulting in a sharp intake of breath... interesting. 

Richard drew Thomas close. He kissed him while allowing his hands to explore the smooth skin on his back; his sides. Thomas lowered his head to Richard’s throat, kissing his neck. 

‘Oh Darling...’ Richard sighed, his voice thick with arousal. 

‘Say that again,’ Thomas asked. ‘Please.’

‘Darling,’ Richard repeated. ‘My Darling Thomas.’

‘Come to bed,’ Thomas said softly as he kissed Richard’s jaw and then took his hand, leading him over to the small bed. They removed their remaining clothing before pulling back the covers and getting in. Richard drew Thomas into his arms and kissed him again. 

‘What do you want, Darling?’ Richard asked. 

Thomas didn’t know how to answer. Richard was, quite possibly one of the most beautiful men Thomas had ever seen. He’d found him attractive from the moment he’d first laid eyes on him, but he had never planned on doing anything more than noticing his beauty. Thomas hadn’t so much as dared to dream that the handsome young royal valet could share his proclivities and even if he had, Thomas wasn’t stupid enough to risk making a pass at anyone at Downton Abbey again, not since Jimmy and the almost-ruin he’d suffered for that stupid mistake. 

Now Richard was naked in his bed and Thomas was overwhelmed with the feelings running through his body, he wanted everything. Everything he’d always pretended not to want, everything he’d never thought he’d be allowed to have. 

Sensing his uncertainty, Richard stroked a hand up and down Thomas’s back to sooth him. 

‘I want...’ Thomas began. ‘Will you use your mouth?’

Richard smiled a devilish grin and rolled Thomas so that he was lying on his back. Richard began to kiss a trail down his chest, across his stomach. Thomas shivered as Richard’s mouth reached his cock, but he didn’t reach for it immediately, instead he moved down and kissed all around his inner thighs before finally, finally Thomas felt a soft hand and then a warm, wet mouth wrapped around his cock. 

‘Richard,’ Thomas groaned. ‘Oh God...’

It had been so long; too long since he’d felt this heavenly bliss. He’d forgotten how wonderful it felt, how deliciously intimate. Thomas fisted a hand in Richard’s hair, pulling gently and he felt the other man’s moan of approval. Richard’s mouth was sucking on his cock head and his hand was working the shaft. Thomas couldn’t help but thrust his hips up off the bed and he felt Richard gag slightly but he didn’t break his rhythm. 

Thomas could feel his orgasm approaching embarrassingly quickly and he could only cry out a warning to Richard, who did not pull off but instead accepted Thomas’s load into his waiting mouth, swallowing it all.

‘Oh my God,’ Thomas gasped. ‘You swallowed it?’

‘Of course,’ Richard nodded with an amused grin and then he looked uncertain. ‘Has no one ever done that for you before, my Darling?’ 

Thomas shook his head. It seemed such a decadent, hedonistic thing to do and Richard had done it so casually, like it had never occurred to him to do anything else. Clearly, Thomas was not so experienced in the acts of Greek Love as he’d previously believed. 

‘Have you never tried it yourself? Even your own for curiosity’s sake?’ 

Thomas shook his head again. When he’d brought men to completion with his mouth in the past he’d always pulled away at the final second, he’d believed all men did the same. Apparently he was wrong. 

‘Can I try it?’ he asked, feeling bold. 

‘Don’t feel you have to, Darling,’ Richard replied. ‘I’ll be satisfied with your hand or... whatever you want to do.’

And Thomas believed him, but still. ‘I want to try.’

‘Then please,’ Richard said. ‘Have your way with me.’

Richard’s cock was long but not overly thick. Thomas found he could wrap his lips around it quite easily and, from the appreciative noises Richard was making, he clearly still had the skill of the act. His right hand worked the shaft where his mouth could not reach and his left hand he used to tease Richard’s balls. His index finger brushing lightly over the sensitive skin of his perineum. He wished he’d brought some oils, but that perhaps would be too big of a presumption for their first time. On a future visit though... the thought of being inside Richard fully, made his cock twitch and he began to suck harder, his rhythm building slowly. 

Richard was tugging on his hair with his right hand, his left grasping at the bed sheets. Thomas looked up into his face and saw Richard was watching him. Their eyes locked together and Richard began to lose control. ‘I’m going to come,’ he told Thomas. ‘Darling, you don’t have to...’ but Thomas didn’t stop and with a cry of his name, Richard came inside Thomas’s mouth. It tasted a little salty; it wasn’t particularly pleasant; an acquired taste, but Thomas thought he would like to get used to it if the expression on Richard’s face as he watched him swallow was anything to go by. 

They lay naked holding each other and kissing softly. The room was growing dark around them but Thomas couldn’t be bothered to get up and turn on the lamps. 

‘Can you stay the night?’ he asked Richard. ‘Or will you be missed at the Palace?’

‘Screw the Palace,’ Richard replied, and then seriously he continued, ‘I’ll not be missed until tomorrow. Unless you want to throw me out now you’ve had your wicked way with me.’

‘Oh yeah you’ve found me out,’ Thomas teased, but he held on a little tighter just in case Richard was tempted to try and leave the bed. He wasn’t. 

‘How often do you get a weekend off?’ Richard asked.

‘The first in the month,’ Thomas replied. ‘Will you be able to be off again?’

‘I’ll find a way,’ Richard answered. ‘Will the Crawleys be in London for the season?’

‘Probably,’ Thomas replied. ‘I doubt I’ll be with them though. They just make do with the valet and ladies’ maids in London these days.’

Richard sighed. ‘Maybe I could find a reason to come to York. Some family emergency.’

‘Don’t I’ll-wish your family on my account,’ Thomas replied. 

‘I wouldn’t. Not really. Just don’t want to wait almost five weeks to see you again.’

‘It’ll fly by,’ Thomas said, although he more than understood Richard’s feelings. ‘And we’ll write.’

Richard smiled. ‘You know I so look forward to receiving your letters.’

‘Me too,’ Thomas replied. ‘I carry them with me always.’

‘Do you really?’ Richard asked and he sounded strangely touched. 

Thomas nodded. ‘Five weeks; that’s at least five, if not six letters between now and then.’

Richard smiled. ‘We’ll go out next time,’ he said, stroking Thomas’s chest. ‘I’ll take you dancing.’

‘I love dancing,’ Thomas replied. ‘It’s not very circumspect though.’

‘Well we might have to find a couple of girls to actually dance with,’ Richard said. ‘But it’ll be you I won’t be able to take my eyes off.’

‘You’re a right charmer aren’t you, Richard?’

‘I have my moments, Darling.’

‘Do you really believe it won’t always be this way?’ Thomas asked after a moments pause. ‘Do you think one day men like us will be able to live openly without having to hide from the world?’

Richard considered for a moment before he answered. ‘I believe the world is changing faster than anyone would have ever thought possible, even since we were children,’ he said. ‘Women have the vote now who’d have thought that was possible even thirty years ago?’

‘They don’t all have the vote,’ Thomas replied.

‘But they will do,’ Richard insisted. ‘It’s coming. You can feel it, even in the Palace. Who knows where we’ll be in another thirty years? You know, in Paris now, men and women like us are able to be much more open. There are even places over there where men can go dressed as women and the women dress as men. Nobody bats an eyelid. England can only hold out for so long.’

‘I wish I could believe like that but I think Yorkshire is a long way behind London.’

‘Perhaps,’ Richard replied. ‘But maybe not so far as you think. Who would’ve thought the Earl of Grantham’s daughter would’ve married an Irish chauffeur?’

Thomas smiled, ‘Miss Sybil was a force of nature.’

‘The war changed everything,’ Richard said. ‘The upper classes are falling apart. Most of what’s left will be finished in ten years, I reckon. Then who knows how it’ll be.’

‘You sound like Mr Branson,’ Thomas said. ‘Isn’t it treason to work for the King and talk like that?’

‘I’m not calling for revolution,’ Richard replied. ‘Just think the working class should have a fair crack of the whip. Don’t you?’

‘Well I vote for the Labour Party,’ Thomas replied. ‘So I’d have to say I agree with you there.’

Richard leaned in a kissed him softly on the lips. Thomas thought he might very well be in love. 

***

Waking up to the sunlight coming through the curtains and a warm body spooned up against his back, Thomas couldn’t remember a time when he’d ever felt happier. They’d made love again the previous night, bringing each other to mutual completion with their hands whilst sharing passionate kisses and then fallen asleep in each other’s arms. 

Thomas could hear Richard’s steady breathing behind him and knew the other man was still fast asleep. He didn’t want to disturb him but he knew he’d have to get up soon and he wasn’t sure what time Richard would be expected to return to his duties, so he turned over, his movements jostling the other man to wakefulness. 

‘Morning,’ Thomas said. 

‘Mmmm,’ Richard replied sleepily. ‘Good morning. What time is it?’

‘It’s almost half past seven,’ Thomas replied. ‘We’re terrible lay-a-beds.’

‘Scandalous,’ Richard grinned. ‘Whatever would Mr Wilson say?’

Thomas laughed and kissed him softly. 

‘Do we have to get up?’ Richard asked. 

‘I’m hungry,’ Thomas complained. ‘We missed dinner.’

‘You weren’t complaining last night.’ 

‘Well I had more important things to do last night.’

‘And I’ve got more important things to do this morning,’ Richard said and rolled over to lie on top of Thomas and began to kiss him again. 

When they finally got out of bed, washed and dressed themselves it was almost nine o’clock. Thomas and Richard left the guesthouse and walked along the main road until they came to a small cafe that was serving breakfast and they settled down to their cups of tea, toast and eggs. 

‘What time do you have to be back on duty?’ Thomas asked. 

‘Not until after lunch,’ Richard replied. ‘What time is your train?’

‘One o’clock.’

‘I can see you to the station then,’ Richard smiled although Thomas detected a hint of sadness. 

‘I don’t want to go,’ he admitted. 

‘I don’t want you to go either.’ 

But he had to, there was no other choice. ‘Five weeks isn’t such a long time.’

‘Five letters,’ Richard repeated Thomas’s words from the previous evening. ‘Maybe six.’

Thomas nodded. ‘And we can telephone.’

‘Definitely,’ Richard replied. ‘I take it you’ve still got my calling card? It has the telephone number on it.’

Thomas nodded. He kept Richard’s calling card in the breast pocket of his coat, along with his letters. 

‘I’ll miss you.’ Richard’s words were quiet but Thomas heard them loud and clear. 

‘I’ll miss you too.’

*** 

At the station, Richard waited on the platform until Thomas’s train pulled in. They couldn’t say goodbye in the way that they would have liked to, of course. Thomas had to content himself with a handshake and a friendly squeeze of Richard’s arm. 

‘Safe journey,’ Richard said as Thomas picked up his suitcase. 

‘Take care of yourself,’ he replied. ‘I’ll see you soon.’

As he walked towards the train he saw a young couple, a man and a woman kissing each other goodbye. He tried not to feel jealous. He almost succeeded. 

He entered the carriage and stowed his case securely, then took his seat by the window. Richard was still standing on the platform, watching him. Their eyes met and Thomas was hit again by the feeling he’d felt so clearly the night before. ‘I love you,’ he thought to himself. ‘Yes. I do love you.’ Next time he’d tell him. 

As the train began to pull away from the station, Thomas raised his hand to wave goodbye; saw Richard return the gesture and then the platform was disappearing into the distance and Richard was gone from view. 

Thomas arrived back at Downton just as the gong was being rung for dinner. He wasn’t in the mood for conversation and as he wasn’t back on duty until the next morning, decided to avoid the Servants’ Hall completely. He went up to his room and put away his clothes, checked over his uniform to make sure it was pressed and clean; then he sat down at his small desk, intending to write another letter to Richard. The knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts and he opened it to find Miss Baxter standing in the hallway, holding a tray. 

‘Does Mrs Hughes know you’re on the men’s corridor?’ he asked. 

‘Mrs Hughes asked me to bring you some supper,’ Miss Baxter said. ‘We thought you might be hungry.’

‘Thank you,’ Thomas replied accepting the tray. 

‘How was London, Mr Barrow?’ Miss Baxter asked him. 

‘Fine, thank you.’ 

‘Mrs Bates said you’d gone to see your sister,’ she said. 

‘That’s right.’ 

‘In London?’

‘Yes.’

Miss Baxter nodded. ‘I’m just curious,’ she said, ‘but doesn’t Sarah live in Manchester?’

Thomas looked guilty but didn’t correct himself. ‘You must be mistaken, Miss Baxter.’

‘Yes,’ she replied knowingly. ‘I suppose I must be. Will you be visiting her again?’

Mr Barrow looked at her for a moment, wondering just how much to reveal to her. ‘Yes,’ he said after a pause. ‘Yes I might be going down to see her quite regularly as it happens. We’ve lots to catch up on.’

‘Good,’ Miss Baxter replied with a smile. ‘I think that’s lovely Mr Barrow. Well I’ll leave you to the rest of your evening off.’

‘Goodnight Miss Baxter,’ Thomas said, moving to close the door again but unable to stop himself from smiling.


End file.
